


Chess Is The Core That Binds Us Together

by Illusinia



Series: The Chess Chronicals [2]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Comic References, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 21:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9345611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusinia/pseuds/Illusinia
Summary: Someone on the Enterprise beat Spock at chess, and Jim is determined to find out who.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Still new to the Star Trek Fandom. Comments are appreciated.

“So who's advantage is it?” asked Jim as he grabbed a rec room chair and spun it backwards before dropping into it to observe the game of chess spread between Spock and Chekov.

 

Neither man looked up, though Chekov answered as he moved his rook. “I believe it is ze commander who has ze advantage.”

 

“Not necessarily true,” countered Spock as he slid his bishop along four black squares, placing Chekov’s knight in peril. “By virtue of the nature of chess, there is no means of identifying who has a supposed advantage. Though having more pieces in play presents more options, one will not necessarily win simply because they have more pieces.”

 

“Doing more with less,” agreed Kirk with a nod, his head settling on his crossed arms. “Valid point. Though against you, I'm not sure it means much Spock.”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Spock curiously as Chekhov moved a rook to protect his knight.

 

“You are ze best player on da ship,” explained Chekhov, releasing the piece slowly. “You are unbeaten.”

 

“That is not true,” stated Spock simply, moving his knight and straightening. “Checkmate.”

 

Chekhov’s brow furrowed for a moment as he stared at the board before shaking his head once with a moan. “How did I not see zat?”

 

“You were preoccupied with your own knight,” replied Spock as he reached out and began to gather the pieces.

 

“Wait, back up,” demanded Jim suddenly, straightening up in his chair.

 

Spock glanced curiously at Jim, one eyebrow rising in clear confusion. “Back up where, precisely?”

 

“No, I mean, go back to the previous topic,” explained Jim as Chekhov grabbed the board and stood while Spock set his pieces back in their box. “What do you mean ‘that is not true'?”

 

“I believe the statement is self-explanatory,” replied Spock simply, standing as well and collecting the box with his pieces.

 

Jim shot up as Spock and Chekhov both turned to exit the lounge, rapidly following them. “But does that mean someone has beaten you before in general or that someone on this ship has beaten you?”

 

“Your statements were conjunctive,” replied Spock cryptically, as he turned a corner towards his quarters.

 

“Wait, does dis have anything to do with ze missing king?” asked Chekhov curiously, tilting his head a little. “From zat set you always have out.”

 

“Missing king?” asked Jim, glancing at Chekhov as Spock’s pace increased slightly. “What missing king? What set?”

 

“Zere is a set he always leaves out,” explained Chekhov, his hands waving around. “But one of ze kings is missing.”

 

“A missing King,” stated Jim slowly, much to Spock’s chagrin. The captain grinned at him, one hand crossing with the other behind his back. “Well, isn’t that interesting. I don’t suppose it’s the winner of a particular game who now possesses that king, is it?”

 

“I believe that answer is between myself and the winner of that game,” stated Spock at last as he stopped at an intersection and motioned for the board Chekhov was holding. The Russian handed the board over without a word. “I will see you both on the bridge shortly.”

Then he was gone, heading for his quarters silently.

 

Spock was barely out of sight before Jim turned to Chekhov. “Probably a pretty stupid question, but you weren’t the one who beat him, right?”

 

“Never,” confirmed Chekhov, shaking his head a little. “Zat person must have been wery good!”

 

“Very, very good,” confirmed Jim with a nod. “I’ve never beat him, that’s for sure.”

 

“Zen who?” asked Chekhov curiously. “Who plays chess?”

 

“We do,” started Jim, ticking two fingers up on his hand. “So does Spock. Sulu might?”

 

“He does, but he isn’t wery good,” stated Chekhov with a nod. “McCoy?”

 

“Maybe,” muttered Jim. “He’s never played me.”

 

“Ze winner has ze king from his set, correct?” asked Chekhov curiously, glancing up at Jim.

 

“Yeah, they do,” confirmed Jim, his lips curling up into a grin. “The winner has his king.”

 

“Uh, keptain?” asked Chekhov slowly, backing away from the man a little.

 

“Chekhov,” began Jim, throwing an arm around the young navigator’s shoulders as a grin that made Chekhov nervous curled over his lips, “we are going to figure out who beat Mr. Spock at chess.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Bones!” shouted Jim as he strolled into Sick Bay, pulling a reluctant Chekhov being dragged behind him. “We need your help!”

 

“What’d you do to yourself this time, Jim?” demanded Leonard with barely a glance up from his desk.

 

“Well, don’t you look worried,” remarked Jim as he pulled Chekhov over to the doctor’s desk, leaning on the edge with both hands.

 

“You’re walking and talking, I’m not concerned,” stated McCoy simply, his focus remaining on his filmplasts and PADDs.

 

“I said we need your help,” pointed out Jim. “It could be important. Someone could be hurt.”

 

Leonard lifted his eyes with a sigh, leveling an eyebrow at Jim. “Is someone hurt?”

 

“No, but someone could be,” stated Jim.

McCoy just rolled his eyes and returned his focus to his work. Jim wasn’t deterred. “Do you play chess, Bones?”

 

“I’m not dropping my work to play chess with you, Jim.”

 

“Have you ever played Spock?” continued Jim, leaning closer to Leonard.

 

The doctor didn’t react. “No. Why would I play the hobgobblin in a game he’d just kick my ass in? Guy is the best chess player on the ship.”

 

“He says he is not,” spoke up Chekhov suddenly, leaning forward nervously. “Ze keptain believes someone on ze ship has beaten him.”

 

McCoy did look up then, cocking an eyebrow at the two men. “Huh. Must be a pretty good player.”

 

“That’s what we were thinking,” agreed Jim with a smirk. “And a player good enough to beat Spock shouldn’t hide that fact. It’s an achievement.”

 

Narrowing his eyes at Jim, Leonard shook his head and turned back to his work. “No, Jim.”

 

“I didn’t ask a question yet!” exclaimed Jim with mock affront.

 

McCoy just shook his head again. “I’m not helping you question every member of the crew, nor am I going to divulge any medical information to you related to this witch hunt.”

 

“Oh come on, Bones,” begged Jim, leaning on the desk. “Aren’t you curious?”

 

“No,” stated Leonard firmly. “It’s none of my damn business. If someone can beat Spock at chess, that’s their business.”

 

“You’re really not curious,” pressed Jim, leaning forward further. “You really don’t want to know who beat him at chess?”

 

“No.”

 

Jim was quiet for a long moment, his eyes darting around the office in search of the random king he was looking for. There was no sign of an errant chess piece though. “So, if I go to your quarters, I won’t find a king sitting out somewhere?”

 

“You’ve been in my quarters, Jim,” reminded McCoy with a grunt.

 

Jim sighed, nodding and pushing off the doctor’s desk. He didn’t move back though, just stood there silently.

 

Finally, Leonard let out a huff and looked up at the young captain. “Spock gave the person his king?”

 

“Itz missing from ze set in his quarters!” confirmed Chekhov with an almost excited tone. “Itz an old tredition, giving ze king of ze opposing color to ze winner.”

 

“Huh,” muttered Leonard, shaking his head and returning to his work. “Still not interested.”

 

Jim made a face, but sighed and turned towards the door. He pulled Chekhov behind him, waving a little.  “Well, if you see that king, let me know! That’s an order!”

 

Jim was out of the door before Leonard could respond. Sighing, the doctor shook his head and returned to his work. He was not interested and would not allow Jim to drag him into this mess.

 

* * *

  
 

“Keptain, I don’t think thiz iz a good idea!” objected Chekhov nervously, his eyes darting up and down the hallway as Jim quickly punched in the master code for the door in front of him.

 

“Relax Chekhov, I’m the captain,” reminded Jim with a shrug, almost cheering when the door slid open. “I can search crew quarters if I feel the need to.”

 

“I don’t think Command had zis in mind when zat rule was made,” muttered Chekhov as Jim stepped through the now open door.

 

“Just keep your eyes open,” insisted Jim as he quickly scanned the chaos that was his Chief Engineer’s quarters. There were things everywhere- and he meant everywhere. Cables, circuit boards, half-finished machines, he wasn’t sure where to start looking for a single, small chess piece in the chaos.

 

“Does Mr. Scott know how to play chess?” questioned Chekhov from the door, his voice still nervous.

 

“I don’t know,” admitted Jim with a shrug as he crossed to a bookshelf and began to scan the area for any signs of the object he was looking for. “Maybe? I mean, I didn’t even know there was someone better at chess than Spock. I think Scotty plays. He asked Spock to teach him some deeper game theory thing once-”

 

“Ai, because I wanted ta be able ta beat you,” stated a heavily accented voice that could only belong to the chief engineer in question. Jim groaned, turning towards where Chekhov had been standing, only to see the young navigator staring into the room fearfully. Well, crap. Apparently, Scotty _hadn’t_ been in engineering.

 

Turning slowly, Jim found the man in question standing in the door to his refresher unit, a towel around his hips and the rest of him unclothed. “Hey Scotty…”

 

“Captain, not tha’ I mind yer company, but what in the fiery pits o’ hell are ya doin’ in my quarters?” asked Scotty, his fingers tightening on his towel as he crossed the room to his dresser. “Also, could ya kindly step inside or at least shut the damn door, laddy? I don’ feel the need for the whole ship ta know what I’m hidin’ under my drawers.”

 

Chekhov practically bolted inside, allowing the door to slid shut with a hiss.

 

As soon as it was closed, Scotty strode across the room to his dresser and began to rummage through it. Jim exchanged a confused look with Chekhov, the young engineer fidgeting nervously as the Scot began pulling out clothes and slipping them on.

 

“Captain?” prompted Scotty, glancing at Jim over his shoulder. “Are ya gonna explain why yer ‘ere?”

 

“We’re on a... personal mission,” admitted Jim as he shrugged at Chekhov and dropped onto the engineer’s couch.

 

“A personal mission that brought ya to my quarters?” asked Scotty almost skeptically as he slipped on a set of boxers under his towel before dropping the cloth and beginning to pull on a fresh uniform. “When Ah’m supposta be out, to boot?” The engineer shook his head. “What were ya lookin’ for?”

 

“A chess piece,” stated Chekhov, his nerves present in his voice despite the fact Scotty didn’t appear the least bit upset by the incident. “A king.”

 

“A chess king?” repeated Scotty, pulling on his shirt before he headed to his replicator and ordered up three cups of coffee. “I don’ even have a set. Why would I have a king? And jus’ a king, fer that matter?”

 

“Someone on the ship does,” stated Jim with a shrug, accepting the cup of coffee that Scotty offered him with a grateful nod. “Specifically, someone has one of Spock’s kings.”

 

“Someone stole the king from ‘is set?” exclaimed Scotty in surprise. “Why would someone do that?”

 

“It was not stolen,” corrected Chekhov quickly. “Ze Commander gave it to ze winner. Is tredition!”

 

Scotty chuckled a little at that, nodding as if he completely agreed with the young Russian. “Right.”

 

“Anyway, we’re trying to find out who has the king,” continued Jim as if Chekhov hadn’t interjected. “Hence why we’re here.”

 

“Well, Ah’m flattered ya think I could be good enough ta beat Mr. Spock, but it wasn’t me,” stated Scotty with a shrug. “Don’ know who it’d be, ta be honest.”

 

“We’re coming up pretty blank, too,” admitted Jim, tapping his fingers a little. “I still think it could be Sulu, but Chekhov says the man’s a shitty player.”

 

“He is not wery good,” confirmed Chekhov with a slight shake of his head. “I do not zink he could win against ze Commander.”

 

“We could check, anyway,” stated Jim with a shrug. “I mean, Spock wouldn’t say who beat him, so I’m guessing it’s either really embarrassing or the person asked him not to say anything.”

 

“Can Vulcans be embarrassed?” asked Scotty curiously. “Ah mean, we know Mr. Spock can get angry,” Jim instinctively rubbed his throat at the remark, “but can they be embarrassed?”

 

“It’s an emotion so, maybe?” tried Jim with a shrug. “I don’t know. Either way though, I want to know who beat Spock. That’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

 

“Ai, but they might not want ta be found,” pointed out Scotty mildly. “Ya do need ta consider that.”

 

“But why wouldn’t you want everyone to know you beat Spock? I mean, that’d make them the best player on the ship!” reasoned Jim, his hand flapping around dismissively.

 

“Maybe zey are self-conscious?” suggested Chekhov, though he sounded doubtful.

 

Jim just shrugged. “Well, we’ll find out when we figure out who it is.”

 

“Ya sure ya want ta intrude on someone like that, Jim?” questioned Scotty as he took a sip of his coffee.

 

“Oh yeah,” confirmed Jim with a nod. “You can’t beat Spock and expect it to remain hidden. People get curious. Besides, it’s not like I’m going to announce their name over the intercom or something.”

 

* * *

  
 

“Are ya sure about this, Jim?” questioned Scotty, though he didn’t look nearly as nervous as Chekhov did.

 

“We need to eliminate all possibilities,” stated Jim with a shrug before he, again, used his override to enter yet another member of his team’s rooms. Unlike Scotty, Sulu’s room was comparatively neat. The key word there being comparatively.

 

There weren’t swords on the ground, to Jim’s great relief, but the pile of clothing in the corner and the stacks of PADDs scattered around the room were only better in the sense that they couldn’t accidentally hurt or kill him. Given Sulu’s rigid stature, he’d assumed the man would be neat. That wasn’t the case at all though.

 

“Do ya see it?” questioned Scotty from the doorway, the engineer’s voice somewhat nervous.

 

“Give me a chance to look, Scotty,” dismissed Jim as he began scanning the various shelves in the room for some sign of the chess piece in question. Even the PADDs and books on his shelves weren’t neat. Everything looked ready to fall over.

 

“I’d appreciate if ya’d hurry up,” requested the Scotsman uneasily. “Mr. Sulu has a _fondness_ for swords I’d rather not be on the receivin’ end of.”

 

“Chekhov is taking care of distracting Sulu, would you please _relax_ ,” urged Jim as he stepped over a pile of clothing that was littering the room.

 

And right onto the one button of one of Sulu’s laser swords. The blade in question shot out, nearly running through Jim’s foot. He yelped in response, then quickly grabbed up the hilt of the sword in a desperate attempt to shut off the damn blade. Sulu’s blade was nothing like any of the standard ones he’d worked with though and, to his horror, he discovered that the on button was stuck in the down position. Apparently, they weren’t meant to be stepped on by Captains in Starfleet standard issue boots. Or Jim needed to lose some weight.

 

The sound of rapid and loudly spoken Russian sent Jim’s mind racing. Shit! Sulu was coming! Apparently, Chekhov hadn’t been able to distract the pilot. He needed to get out of there. But the sword….

 

He could shove it in Sulu’s closet!

From the doorway, Scotty cursed. “Jim get outta there. They’re comin’!”

 

“I’m coming!” hissed Jim as he rapidly ran to the pilot’s closet and opened the doors, only for a pile of clothes to tumble out onto his feet. Shit!

 

“Jim, now!” demanded Scotty, the engineer’s voice rising sharply as the Russian got louder and more hurried.

Shit! There was no time to get out and put everything back! “Scotty, go!”

 

The engineer cursed but didn’t argue. Jim heard the door slide firmly shut as he rapidly shoved the clothing back into the closet before climbing in after it with the broken laser sword in hand and shutting the door. He barely made it in before the door to the room slid open once more, Chekhov’s frantic Russian accent filling the room.

 

“But vat about-“

 

“I’ll be down later, Pavel!” exclaimed Sulu irritably. “Look, I just have something to do, then I’ll meet you down in the mess. I promise.”

 

“But-!” The navigator’s voice was promptly cut off by the sound of the door shutting, followed by angry muttering from Sulu. Jim listened with bated breath as the pilot crossed the room. He heard the other man sit down somewhere, then the sound of typing before there was a familiar ring of a comm call filling the room. It barely lasted a second before another voice filled the room.

 

“Hey Hikaru,” greeted a cheerful male voice, pitched low and soft.

 

“Hey Ben,” returned Sulu’s own soft voice. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

 

“It’s good to see you, too,” murmured Ben. “I was hoping you’d be able to reach me, tonight.”

 

“When I explained to Nyota that it was our anniversary, she was more than happy to help,” explained Sulu.

 

“She’s nice like that,” agreed Ben. “You need to give her something nice. Maybe give that boyfriend of hers some advice for their own anniversary. How long do you have?”

 

“She said to take as long as I wanted,” replied Sulu with clear glee.

 

Jim went cold, then nearly groaned. Fuck. He was going to be stuck in there for a while. Oh god, he hoped they didn’t do something he didn’t need to hear. Damnit. Well, at least he might have time to fix the laser blade… unless he used it to damage his ears first.

 

* * *

  
 

“Didja not learn your lesson already Jim!” exclaimed Scotty as the engineer attempted to step in front of him, waving his hands around angrily. “Ya coulda been caught! Lucky for ya, Mr. Sulu had ta end the call early!”

 

“Would you relax?” dismissed Jim as they turned down the halls towards Lieutenant Rand’s quarters. “Rand is _definitely_ on shift for several more hours. She’s not going to come back to her room before then. Besides, I’m sure Rand is a lot neater than Sulu or you. This should be fast.”

 

Scotty let out an exasperated sound and glanced over at Chekhov. Based on the look on the engineer’s face, he guessed the two were exchanging equally frustrated looks, but he didn’t care. Rand was always put together. Besides, she was a woman and Jim had enough experience with the female sex to know that they were usually pretty neat.

 

Reaching the lieutenant’s door, Jim once more entered his over-ride and stepped into the room. It was the worst mistake of his life.

 

His first step landed his foot in a pile of shoes positioned basically in front of the door. High heeled shoes. One of which found its home in the arch of his foot and even through his boot the stab of pain was terrible.

 

He immediately lost his balance falling forward into something soft, which he realized a moment later was a pile of clothes. Dirty clothes. And his nose was pressed right into a pair of her underwear. Something else had tumbled onto his head in his fall. It took him less than a second to realize it was a bra.

 

Inhaling slowly, and immediately regretting it, Jim shot up to find the entire room looked like it had been hit by a hurricane. A category five hurricane. There were piles of clothing everywhere, some dirty and some apparently clean. Nail polish and other various female items lay scattered across the room. This included a bag of what appeared to be feminine products sitting on the table in the room.

 

Jim immediately stood up, pulled the lacy black bra from his head (he didn’t need to know what his Yeoman wore under her clothes, dammit- now he was going to obsess about it!), deposited it back on the floor and walked out. Nope. This searching rooms thing just wasn’t working out.

 

* * *

  
 

Leonard sighed as his communicator buzzed, yet again, in his pocket. It was the tenth time in the last five minutes. He wasn’t even bothering to check it at this point. He knew it was Jim and he was determined to ignore the captain and his crazy obsession for the moment until after he completed this errand. Under his arm, the PADD containing his most recent loan from Nyota pressed against his side. He’d promised to have the dictionary back to her today and he wasn’t going to break that promise.

 

Reaching her door, he buzzed to be allowed in just as his communicator sounded in his pocket once more. He pulled the device out long enough to mute it before shoving it back in its place. Jim could wait five minutes.

 

“Hey Nyota,” greeted Leonard as soon as the door to the communication officer’s quarters slid open.

 

She nodded in response, standing aside so Leonard could enter. She indicated the toothbrush currently pressed against her cheek, then the bathroom and held up five fingers. He nodded in return to indicate his acknowledgement and turned towards the rest of the room as she disappeared into her bathroom once more. Idly, his eyes began to roam around the room as he waited.

 

Like most of the bridge crew’s quarters, hers consisted of a single, moderately sized room containing the standard furnishings. A couch, two chairs, a coffee table and a dining one, a bed, and two bookshelves inhabited the room. The extra bookshelf wasn’t standard, but Leonard wasn’t surprised by it, either. From what he understood, sciences, communications, and medical personnel all received an extra bookshelf, accounting for the probability they’d have additional reference materials they’d need to store.

 

Idly, Leonard crossed the room to the bookshelves and began to poke through their contents. She always seemed to have an interesting selection of books on her shelves; maybe something would catch his eye. She never seemed to have a problem with him borrowing them.  Then again, he was careful to return anything he borrowed in the original condition, save that one dictionary that someone had thrown up corrosive slime on. That he’d replaced with sincere apologies.

 

One of his fingers traced along the titles listed along her middle shelf, noting that most weren’t in Standard (no surprise there- it was Nyota after all), but taking in very little other information. Then his finger passed a slender column of white, topped with a small ledge and a cross.

 

He froze there in mid motion, staring at the lone king currently resting innocuously on Nyota’s bookcase.

 

The sound of the door to her refresher unit opening snapped his attention towards her, his hand dropping to the side. He even took a step back, away from the shelf.

 

Offering him an apologetic smile, Nyota stepped into the kitchen and began fussing with her replicator. “Sorry Leonard, I’m afraid I’m running a little behind today.”

 

“It’s alright,” assured Leonard, offering her the PADD in his hand. “Just figured I’d return this to you. Thanks again.”

 

“No problem,” assured Nyota with a smile, taking the PADD and turning towards her bookcase. “Anytime you need a dictionary, just ask.”

 

“I swear, they should just assign a linguist to Sick Bay permanently,” stated Leonard, his eyes finding their way back to the king on her shelf. “It would save us the hassle of having to juggle dictionaries while we work.”

 

“I don’t know how many zenolinguists you’d get to agree to that,” remarked Nyota with a chuckle, her fingers easily slipping the PADD back onto the shelf, a few titles down from where the king rested. “You might shut down the entire zenolinguistics department in a day if you did that.”

 

“Maybe, but at least I wouldn’t be balancing dictionaries while doing surgery,” reasoned Leonard with a shrug.

 

Nyota hummed in agreement, turning to face him even as her fingers remained pressed to the shelf. Leonard stepped back up to the bookcase as well, not bothering to hide his interest in her solitary chess piece. She didn’t say a word as he did, just stood there watching him.

 

For a moment, he considered just walking away. No one was forcing him to invade Nyota’s privacy, especially not when she’d been so polite to him. He didn’t even have a good reason to ask, but, dammit, Jim had made him curious.

 

“So, a chess king,” remarked Leonard, nodding towards the errant king. “Didn't know you played.”

 

“I don't play against others often,” replied Nyota calmly, straightening her books a little.

 

“Who’d you win that one from?” continued Leonard, keeping his voice neutral as he eyed the piece. It resembled a human design, but he could tell by the glint of the material that it probably wasn’t human at all. The material didn’t appear to be correct.

 

“A friend,” stated Nyota, without offering more information. Then again, she didn’t need to. Her voice said he knew exactly who she’d won the king from.

 

Leonard nodded slowly, dragging his eyes away from the piece to meet her own. “You know, Jim is looking for a solitary king someone won from Spock. Apparently he broke into Scotty’s quarters looking for it. And Sulu’s.” He left Rand’s quarter’s out of it. He knew if the Yeoman found out that she’d maim Jim and, though the man deserved it, it wasn’t worth suffering through Jim’s whining given the man didn’t make it past the front door.

 

“Really?” asked Nyota, her brow furrowing in concern. She bit slightly at her lip, eyes falling to the solitary piece.

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Leonard with a shrug. “Course, I don’t care a lick about any of it. But if someone who he’s roped into this witch hunt sees it…”

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” assured Nyota, even as she reached up and removed the king from her bookshelf. “Thanks for the heads up.”

 

“Hey, might as well make sure everyone’s aware of our captain’s latest hair-brained obsession,” dismissed Leonard with a shrug before turning towards the door of her quarters. “See you later, Nyota.”

 

“Later, Leonard,” parted Nyota. He caught sight of her moving across the room to a chest she kept locked at the base of her bed just as the door to her quarters slid shut.

 

Turning towards Sick Bay, Leonard let himself have a moment of absolute shock. Nyota Uhura had beaten Spock in chess. That probably shouldn’t have actually been a surprise- Spock was dating her after all. She couldn’t be stupid. If Jim ever found out, he would absolutely die. Leonard kind of hoped he would, just so he could laugh at the look that would probably cover Jim’s face. That image had an almost smile tugging at the Doctor’s lips as he pulled out his communicator. Then nearly groaned. Jim wanted to see him in his ready room. Well, shit. It looked like he was about to get pulled into this mess after all.


	2. Chapter 2

“There’d better be a damn good reason why you called me here,” scowled Bones as the doctor nearly stormed into the room. Inside, Scotty, Jim, Chekhov, and Sulu all looked towards him from their various seats. Well, that couldn’t be good. If Uhura and Spock weren’t present, this thing probably wasn’t anything related to official business. “And a legit one, at that. I have patients.”

 

“Nurse Chapel can handle them,” dismissed Jim as he motioned for Bones to take a seat beside a sulking Sulu. “We have something more important to discuss!”

 

“Which would be?” prompted Bones as he reluctantly took a seat.

 

Jim grinned. “The mystery player who beat Spock! Going through people’s stuff didn’t work out too well, so we need a new plan.”

 

Bones twitched a little. “Jim, this is ridiculous. If Spock isn’t talking, there’s probably a reason.”

 

“But Bones, think about how good someone would have to be to beat Spock,” pressed Jim, his voice practically pleading.

 

“You just want to find out who it is so you can challenge them for your own ego,” dismissed Bones with a shake of his head. “Even if you manage to beat someone who’s beaten Spock, that doesn’t mean you can actually beat the hobgobblin.”

 

Jim paused momentarily, glancing back at Bones curiously. “That’s not what this is about, Bones.”

 

“That’s exactly what this is about, Jim,” countered Bones, folding his arms across his chest.

 

“We need a new plan,” stated Jim instead, ignoring Bones. The doctor wasn’t going to probably listen to his reasoning, anyway.

 

At this point, his search went beyond satisfying his curiosity. He wanted to know why whoever this was, was so cagy about beating Spock. Honestly, he wasn’t sure he even believed someone had beat Spock at this point. Though Spock did insist Vulcans don’t lie, so maybe it was the truth. But then why wasn’t that person running up and down the halls bragging about their victory?

 

“So how do we lure a chess player out?” asked Sulu curiously. “I mean, what could we honestly do to lure a chess player out into the open?”

 

The room was silent for a moment, everyone but Bones deep in thought as they weighed their options.

 

“Wha’ about a chess tournament?” suggested Scotty from the chair across from Bones. “Any player with enough skill ta beat Mr. Spock will probably jump at the chance ta play so many people.”

 

“Perfect!” exclaimed Jim, snapping his fingers and pointing at Scotty. “We can make it ship wide.”

 

“Winner plays ze Commander!” exclaimed Chekhov excitedly.

 

“And then we’ll know for sure who beat Spock!” confirmed Jim excitedly. “Love it. This is what teamwork looks like!”

 

“Unless they don’t want to be figured out, so they don’t play or they throw the game,” countered Bones with a scowl. “Besides, Spock won’t agree to this scheme. He’s protecting whoever beat him, remember?”

 

“McCoy has a point,” agreed Sulu, tapping his fingers a little, “but we know Spock can beat everyone else pretty easily. If we just convince him we’re having a tournament to have a tournament and get him to agree to play, he’ll easily make it to the last round.”

 

“Unless you accidentally match him with ze person who beat him before in the first round,” reasoned Chekhov, brow furrowing. “We do not know who zis person is, it could happen.”

 

“Then we have our answer early and can just enjoy the tournament,” reasoned Jim with a shrug. He sure wasn’t going to complain about playing multiple rounds of chess.

 

“So how do we get people ta sign up?” asked Scotty curiously, leaning towards the center of the table.

 

“I’ll just make an announcement, it’ll be easy,” assured Jim with a shake of his hand. “After all, it’s just free sign-ups for the staff. How hard can it be?”

 

* * *

  
 

Jim had been right, the sign-ups hadn’t been the difficult part. That honor belonged to convincing Spock to play. It was harder than anyone had thought it would be. Particularly Jim.

 

“Come on Spock,” pleaded Jim as he followed rapidly behind his first officer. “It’s chess! You like chess!”

 

“However, I am far more proficient than the standard player aboard the Enterprise,” reasoned Spock blandly. “It would be unfair for me to engage within the tournament.”

 

“Geez, and I thought Vulcans were modest,” muttered Jim, falling behind his first officer for a few moments while he considered his next step. What could he use to entice Spock? Or at least convince him it wasn’t amoral to play. “I’m going to play.”

 

“And you are of a similar player level to the vast majority of the crew,” pointed out Spock blandly, stopping before the lift to the bridge and pressing the button to summon it.

 

Well, that hurt. “I like to think I’m a little better than the average.” Spock just raised an eyebrow at him in challenge. “Alright, fine. Compared to you, I’m in the average range. But that doesn’t mean you should refrain from playing.” As a last ditch effort, Jim added: “I mean, when’s the next time you’re going to have this many people to play against?”

 

Spock paused at that. Jim could practically see the wheels in Spock’s head calculating out the number of games he could play in one setting if he participated. Apparently, he was deprived enough of opponents normally to slowly nod his head. “Your logic is sound.”

 

Jim could have cheered. He settled for nodding his head in a firm, authoritative manner and clapping Spock on the shoulder. “That’s the spirit! The tournament is tonight. I expect to see you there.” He hurried away then, before Spock had the chance to change his mind or correct him. Spock still hadn’t technically agreed to play, but Jim was hoping the half-Vulcan would forget that part of the conversation.

 

Besides, Jim still had one card up his sleeve: Uhura. She hadn’t agreed to play in the tournament, but if he could convince her to show up, Spock would come for sure. Apparently he was still feeling a little possessive where Uhura was concerned; no one had seen them apart off-duty in nearly a month. Jim just hoped that didn’t indicate something was wrong with Uhura or that she was pregnant. They did not need to see what would likely happen to Spock when that did finally happen.

 

Whatever the cause of Spock’s borderline over-protective presence though. It didn’t matter. He just needed to get Uhura to agree to come to their chess tournament and then they could be guaranteed of Spock’s attendance. He just had to wait for the right moment to ask.

 

* * *

  
 

“Hey, Uhura!” exclaimed Jim as he spotted the communication officer ahead of him in the hall. She turned slightly at the sound of his voice, nodded once in acknowledgement, and slowed her pace slightly even though she didn’t completely stop. He caught up to her pretty quickly, dropping a hand on her shoulder to catch her full attention. “Are you coming to the tournament tonight to cheer Spock on?”

 

“Spock doesn’t need me to cheer him on,” stated Uhura calmly, falling into step with Jim easily.

 

“No,” agreed Jim slowly, “but I’m sure he’d like it if you came. I mean, what guy doesn’t want his girlfriend around.”

 

“Spock and I aren’t joined at the hip,” pointed out Uhura. “We can participate in different activities.”

 

“And being stuck in a room filled with people playing chess for an hour sounds boring?” added Jim with a grin, nodding a little. “I get it. You don’t have to make excuses. Just thought you’d like to join us, is all.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” stated Uhura, her fingers tightening a little around her PADD before relaxing.

 

Jim raised his eyebrow a little at the gesture but opted not to ask. His relationship with Uhura was rocky at best sometimes and the tentative friendship they were developing was fragile. “Alright, well, if you change your mind, you know where we are.”

She nodded once and turned to continue down the hall, in the opposite direction of the lounge.

 

Jim let out a quiet sigh as he watched her walk off and turned towards the lounge area. Spock might say he didn’t care if Uhura was there or not, but Jim knew he’d want his girlfriend there. Getting Spock to even agree to play had been hard enough- Uhura was his ace in the hole for ensuring Spock actually played. Generally, Jim agreed with him, but he’d gotten the Vulcan to agree to play all the same. After all, Spock was hard pressed to ignore the allure of a game of chess. Or multiple games, in this case.

 

* * *

  
 

Nyota felt her shoulders slump almost as soon as the door to her quarters slid shut. All day, the only thing she’d heard about was Jim’s stupid chess tournament. It pissed her off so badly that the man would organize this entire scheme just to attempt to lure her into playing. Well, not her so much as ‘the person who beat Spock’. After Leonard’s warning about their captain’s breaking and entering trend in his search for Spock’s missing king, it wasn’t hard to understand his motivation in arranging this tournament. Everyone on the ship who played seemed to be signing up, too. Except her.

 

Part of her was nearly giddy at the chance to play again, against so many people. But the other, larger part of her refused to accept that option, replaying for her viewing displeasure the words of her last opponent before she’d quit the game save for her grandfather and a single, remote player she knew only as S. And now, Spock. Her Vulcan lover adored the game and played for the simple joy of playing, even though he claimed it was all with the intention of maintaining his strategic skills. She saw the spark in his eye though; she knew better. He was like her in that regard: he loved chess for the game, not the prestige of it.

 

Sighing, she crossed her room to the locked chest at the end of her bed. Her fingers found the hidden latches without thought, flicking them open and entering the appropriate code to unlatch it. The chest popped open with a hiss, the environmental controls beeping once. She removed a small, wrapped object from the top of the chest, closing the lid again and relocking it before she moved to her living room. With careful fingers, she removed the cloth and allowed the Vulcan king to slip into her hand. The cool stone slid against her fingers, smooth and beautiful. Soothing.

 

The tournament was taunting her. They’d never been something she’d seriously participated in before, but in Nairobi they had outdoor chess parks. It had always been easy to go and watch a game or five without participating, walk through the various moves the players could make and attempt to predict their next moves. It had been a substitute for the game after her grandfather’s passing, until Spock had noticed her admiration of his 3-D chess board.

 

\------------------------

 

_“Have you seen one before?” Spock’s soft voice broke her train of thought, though it didn’t drag her eyes from the chess board still set up in the middle of his apartment. It had been carefully placed on his coffee table, an armchair pulled around to one side of the board and his couch on the other. The game itself had clearly been completed- she could see that the black king was in checkmate._

 

_“A 3D chess board?” asked Nyota as she carefully examined the game that had been in play. “Yes, a lot, actually.”_

 

_“A Vulcan one,” corrected Spock as he came to stand immediately beside her. “Though the pieces are designed in a terran manner to reflect the game’s origins, the materials are Vulcan in nature.”_

 

_“It’s beautiful,” remarked Nyota, though she wasn’t actually sure if it was the way the winner of the game had succeeded or the board itself. Based on the state of the board, it was apparent the winner had been very skilled. Clearly Spock had been one of the two players, but she couldn’t guess who the other was._

 

_“Would you care to play?” asked Spock curiously. “I have a 2D version of the game which we can engage with. It would provide you with a higher probability of winning.”_

 

_Nyota nearly laughed. On some level, she wanted to. They’d never played chess before and he didn’t know her background with the game. She wasn’t feeling inclined to inform him, either. She didn’t know him well enough yet to determine how he might react to the knowledge of who taught her to play._

 

_So instead, she reached for the pieces lying beside the board and began to collect them. “No, the 3D version is fine, if you don’t mind resetting your board.”_

 

_“I have no objections,” assured Spock as he moved to the other side of the board and began to shift the pieces back to their starting positions. “You are certain you wish to play this version though? I find I excel at chess.”_

 

_“Have you ever lost?” asked Nyota curiously, the part of her that loved the game and loved a good challenge rising up._

 

_Spock shook his head. “Not in many years.”_

_Nyota felt her lips pull into a smile. Oh, this was going to be fun, then. She always appreciated players that were challenging. It was how she had learned after all. “It’ll be a challenge, then.”_

 

_Pieces arranged appropriately, Nyota took a seat in the chair and watched Spock elegantly position himself on the couch. He gave her one last, uncertain, look before nodding at the board. “You may go first.”_

 

He’s confident _, thought Nyota as she carefully maneuvered one of her pawns forward on the board._

 

_Spock didn’t react, simply moved a rook. Nyota shifted her knight. He moved his bishop._

 

 _Check in 5 against me, thought Nyota as she shifted another pawn._ Check in 6 against him.

 

_Sure enough, five moves later, Spock declared check. Nyota didn’t think twice as she took the offending piece and placed his own king in peril along with her own declaration of check._

 

_The game continued in that fashion for nearly half an hour, both herself and Spock gradually losing pieces. She spotted the point where Spock began to recognize her skills, his moves becoming far more thought out. It did not change the outcome though, and when she declared checkmate almost thirty minutes after they began, Spock didn’t react. He glanced over the board, nodded once, and stood from his couch._

 

_“That was an excellent game,” acknowledged Spock as he headed for his kitchen. She stood as well, following him silently. He reached for his kettle, flipping on his stove and retrieving cups for tea. “You are a skilled player.”_

 

_“Thanks,” thanked Nyota with a nod and touch of a smile. “We should play again sometime. That was fun.”_

 

_“Agreed,” confirmed Spock as he went about preparing their tea. They lapsed into silence for a bit then, before he brought up an article he’d found regarding a new type of programming which flexible database matrices that were being considered for use with the Universal Translators._

\-------------------------

The next day, when she’d entered the TA and RA offices on her floor of the zenolingusitics building, she’d noticed something sitting in the middle of her desk. It took her a moment to realize it was a king and another moment to realize it was a king she recognized. Specifically, it was Spock’s king. The one she had cornered the night before. Her fingers had lightly brushed the stone before she curled them around the piece and allowed a smile to curl over her lips. She had recognized the piece for what it was- a silent declaration that not only had she won last night’s game, she won his heart as well.

 

Gently, she set the king on her own coffee table and stared at the piece. That single piece. If she’d known it would cause so much trouble, she would have given it back to Spock years ago. Or let him win and take it back. A part of her wasn’t willing to let it go though. Not only was it representative of the love Spock had for her, but it was representative of his respect and recognition of her love for the game they shared. A love she’d never given up, even when she’d found she was no longer comfortable playing the game.

 

A knock at her door drew her thoughts back to the present, to her quarters and away from her memories of games long past and a love she’d forced dormant. One Spock had, in a single night, rekindled so spectacularly.

 

Standing, she headed towards her door, but paused just before it, reluctant to open it. Kirk had been practically badgering her to attend the tournament tonight, and she couldn’t be the captain or one of his cohorts on the other side of the door, prepared to attempt to persuade her to come. If it was him or any of the others he’d coerced into this madness, she’d need to hide the king once more.

 

“Computer, please identify visitor,” requested Nyota uneasily, hovering before her door.

 

“Visitor identified as Commander Spock,” returned the computer crisply. Nyota nearly sagged in relief and keyed open the door.

 

“Greetings, Nyota,” offered Spock as soon as the door was open. She nodded back at him silently, turning and walking into her quarters. His king still sat where she’d placed it, glinting on the coffee table as if it were taunting her. She felt him pause behind her and turned to find his eyes lingering on the piece as well before he shook himself and focused on her once more. “I wished to inquire if you would be attending the event tonight.”

 

One of Nyota’s eyebrows nearly shot up at the inquiry. “Did Kirk put you up to this?”

 

“No,” stated Spock, his brow furrowing. “Has he made a similar inquiry?”

 

“He asked if I was coming tonight to cheer you on,” replied Nyota with a shrug, her eyes slipping back to the king.

 

She heard Spock hum behind her before he stepped close enough that one of his hands could curl around her waist. “I do not require your presence.”

 

Nyota nodded and allowed her head to fall against his shoulder. “I’m aware and I told him as much.”

 

Spock was silent for a long moment in the manner Nyota had come to recognize as an indicator that he was considering how to say something he wanted to. Verbal communication could still be a struggle for him where she was concerned, particularly conversations that were personal in nature.

 

“I made the inquiry because I believed you might wish to observe the games,” explained Spock at last, his hand leaving her waist to curl over her shoulder. “You would frequently observe games in the student union of the Academy, particularly during periods of high stress. I thought perhaps, though you are not currently stressed, that you might enjoy revisiting the habit.

 

Nyota’s brow furrowed before she lifted her head to meet his eyes. “How did you know about that?”

 

Spock raised an eyebrow in return, though he appeared slightly embarrassed by the knowledge. “I observed your presence on 36 different occasions and, though you always had work present, I noticed your attention was not turned to it, but rather the games in front of you.”

 

“I stopped doing that after we started dating,” stated Nyota, her brows furrowing further. Had he really noticed her before she’d boldly proposed they have dinner?

 

As if reading her thoughts, he nodded slowly. “Indeed.”

 

“Huh,” huffed Nyota, a smile tugging at her lips. “And yet, you still suggested we play 2D chess first.”

 

“I will admit that I did not anticipate your skill level to be so advanced,” admitted Spock, his cheeks tinting green for a second before he restrained the emotional response. “I apologize for my assumption.”

 

“It’s alright,” assured Nyota. Her fingers brushed over his brow softly, dragging lightly against his cheek. “I never gave you any indication I played.”

 

“You did not,” confirmed Spock softly. She felt one of his hands slide up to cup her neck, slipping against the hair at her nape. “Nyota, though I recognize that chess causes you some distress for an unknown reason, I believe it may prove beneficial for you to attend tonight’s tournament.”

 

“I don’t know, Spock,” murmured Nyota, her head tilting back as his fingers massaged along the back of her neck. “I’m not going to play.”

 

“I am not suggesting you should,” assured Spock gently. The hand at her shoulder slipped down so he could pull her body flush with his in a hug. “I simply suggested that you should consider attending. I do not expect you to play, but I suspect you might find enjoyment in your more voyeuristic habits concerning the game.”

 

She nodded slowly, even though she knew her most likely answer. “I think it’ll be too much, Spock. I’d rather stay in.”

 

Spock nodded, his lips brushing her temple slightly. “I understand, Nyota. It was merely a suggestion. Should you change your mind, your presence, while not necessary, would be welcome.”

 

Again, she nodded, her hands cupping his cheeks momentarily before she leaned up and kissed him softly. “Thank you, Spock.”

 

“Thanks are both unnecessary and illogical,” murmured Spock in response before his lips dropped to hers again.

 

They remained that way for a moment, arms wrapped around one another and lips locked in a gentle embrace. When they parted a moment later, Spock allowed his forehead to press to hers, the hand that had been cupping her neck sliding to her temple. He didn’t initiate a meld, but she felt the gentle pulse of adoration, love, and reassurance that he sent from his mind into hers all the same.

 

When he stepped away a moment later, Nyota half wondered if she could convince him to remain in with her tonight instead of attending the tournament. They could play strip chess. He’d been somewhat horrified the first time she made the suggestion, but he’d rapidly found the appeal in the game. Still, he loved chess and it wasn’t often he got to play this much in a single day.

 

“Good luck,” murmured Nyota, her finger rising to cover his lips when they parted, likely his customary remark concerning the illogical nature of luck on his lips. “I’ll see you later tonight. Kick everyone’s ass.”

 

“I will try,” stated Spock, his lips tilting up slightly. Then he turned and was gone.

 

Sighing, Nyota’s eyes returned to his king. It stared back at her, almost taunting her. She groaned and headed for her refresher unit. A shower would make this better.

 

Twenty minutes later, she was dressed in civilian clothes as she again dropped on her couch. The king was still there, glinting in the light of the room. Nyota tried to ignore it, pulling out her PADD loaded with some of the most recent linguistic studies concerning several newly discovered languages. Her eyes continued to stray back to the king though, and ten minutes later, she hadn’t moved past the first page of the article.

 

Frustrated, Nyota practically threw the PADD aside and grabbed the king from the table, tugging on a sweatshirt and shoving it inside the pocket. Then she was out the door, cursing Kirk and Spock in every language she knew.

 

* * *

 

 

The tournament was already in full swing when Nyota entered the room thirty minutes after it began. It didn’t take long for her to spot Spock in the crowd, engaging with Ensign Peters from engineering. The poor boy looked like he was about to melt under the stress of playing the Commander. It made her wince, particularly when she saw the marks of unease and guilt in Spock’s eyes.

 

“I’m surprised you showed,” muttered Leonard as the doctor slid up beside her as subtly as possible. “Didn’t think you would, all things considered.”

 

“Spock thought I might have fun just watching,” replied Nyota quietly, her eyes landing on the game Scotty was currently involved in. “Why aren’t you playing?”

 

“Odd number of people,” replied Leonard quietly, glancing around the room. “I said I’d keep score instead. Besides, I’m not particularly good at chess or fond of the game.”

 

“That’s fair,” murmured Nyota, her mind having already determined the most likely winner of Scotty’s game. Checkmate in seven turns in Scotty’s favor, unless he really messed up somewhere. Her eyes then landed on Kirk’s game, his face drawn in concentration as he carefully moved one of his bishops. “Scotty should win in seven turns. Kirk will probably win in five.”

 

She caught one of Leonard’s eyebrows shooting up out of the corner of her eye. “What makes you so sure?”

 

“Because I wasn’t a _bad_ player,” whispered Nyota, her eyes slipping back to Spock’s game. Not that she didn’t know the winner of that game already- it was pretty much a foregone conclusion. She didn't know of anyone else who had beat him except her. Even his father couldn't beat him anymore. “It's easy enough to figure out based on logical plays and reactions.”

 

“You sound like the hobgoblin,” muttered Leonard with a shake of his head. “You ever use those skills against him?”

 

Nyota’s lip twitched slightly upward as Spock offered his hand in congratulations, his opponent's king neatly sitting in check with almost no pieces removed from the board. “How do you think I won? At the more advanced level, it's all about predicting what they will do and then predicting what you can do that they won't predict you doing.”

 

“Sounds like a headache,” grumbled Leonard with a shake of his head. “And you actually like this game?”

 

“Yes,” confirmed Nyota softly, her eyes moving back to Scotty. “It's all about figuring out your opponent, much like figuring out a language.”

 

Scotty grinned widely as he placed his opponent in check, clearly excited about it. Almost simultaneously, Chekhov stood up as well across the room along with three ensigns from her department: Nicoles, Darwent, and Colby. She then glanced back at the board behind Leonard and gestured towards it. “Aren't you supposed to be keeping score?”

 

Leonard grumbled and turned to the board, beginning to cross out names. “Who's still in?”

 

Smiling slightly, Nyota listed off all of the remaining individuals, noting when new people won while Leonard advanced people forward. Several of the people who'd been taken out crossed to stand with them while the winners remained by their boards awaiting instructions.

 

Unconsciously, Nyota sought out Spock with her eyes. His own gaze met hers from across the room, filled with the restrained excitement she’d come to recognize. It made her happy to see Spock so at ease in a group of people- something that never happened except under very specific situations.

 

“Okay, I’ve got the next set of people!” called out McCoy, drawing everyone’s eyes towards him as he began reading off people. Over all, Sulu, Chekhov, Kirk, Scotty, and Spock all progressed along with ten other people from various departments. She recognized a few like Zahra and K’ai from security as well as and the three from her department who were still in the tournament.

 

As Spock moved to sit across from Nicoles, she mentally corrected her count. She had no doubt that Spock would make it entirely through the tournament. Poor Nicoles would be eliminated that round for sure. Next to them, Chekhov and Sulu settled in across from each other with Scotty and Zahra a few boards down. Kirk got K’ai and Nyota felt bad for the Orion. As much as she hoped that K’ai could beat their captain, she doubted it. Kirk was a lot of things, but she knew he wasn’t bad at chess. He wasn’t great, either, but he did seem to hold his own better than most. Well, except against Spock, but even she lost to Spock sometimes. Not even sometimes; it was about a 50-50 split over who won on any given day.

 

“Alright, everyone start,” demanded Leonard in that dismissive voice he used when he was kicking someone out of medical. Immediately, the room was filled with the normal, quiet rustle she’d come to associate with chess tournaments, minus the click of the timers used to monitor how long people were taking on their turns.

 

“Who do you think will win?” asked Leonard suddenly and Nyota jumped a little when she realized the doctor was behind her.

 

She shrugged slightly, glancing across the room. “I’d guess Spock. He’s the best player here.”

 

Leonard nodded. “Not sure playing a Vulcan in chess is fair given how their brains work.” Nyota just shrugged.

 

Opting to remain silent with so many people floating nearby, she instead focused back on the various games, calculating the number of turns between check and checkmate for each game. She had to admit that Spock was right, it was an interesting exercise and one she hadn't  realised she'd missed.

 

Sulu, Scotty, and K’ai were eliminated that round along with Nicoles, Colby, and several others she only recognised in passing. Darwent was the last to finish and sat out the next round. He'd be added back in the third round to even the numbers.

 

And so the group continued to dwindle. Zahra was eliminated by Spock in the third round along with Chekhov in the fourth. Darwent lost to Kirk. And so it went until the final round came and only Spock and Kirk were left standing.

 

Kirk was grinning like a fool as he approached a board set up in the middle of the room. Spock, by contrast, was incredibly sedate. It was exactly what she expected, until Kirk opened his mouth. “Well Spock, looks like whoever beat you wasn’t good enough to beat me!”

 

Nyota felt her temper flare at that. Logically, she’d known this whole tournament was about trying to determine who had previously won against Spock, but hearing Kirk admit it pricked her temper in a way she hadn’t expected. That he assumed she’d played, that she wouldn’t see through his little plan, was insulting even if he didn’t know _she_ was the one who’d beaten Spock. And to assume he’d _won_ was more so.

 

Oblivious to her anger, Kirk continued as he dropped into the chair on one side of the board. “You know what that means, right? I can probably beat you!”

 

Even Spock’s skeptical response didn’t quell her irritation.

 

“We’ll see,” stated Jim, his grin grating on her nerves. “Guess you’re gonna have to give me your other king when I win!”

 

Something inside Nyota snapped at that. She wasn’t sure if it was the sheer arrogance of Kirk’s words or the fact that he assumed he could defeat Spock because he assumed he’d defeated her even though he hadn’t, but her temper rose sharply. The remark about Spock giving Kirk his other king was just the last straw. That king was more than just a reminder that she’d beat Spock and she wouldn’t let Kirk belittle the king’s varied meanings.

 

Without a word of warning to anyone, she cut across the room, heading for the table where Spock had just extracted the chair opposite of Kirk. If Kirk wanted to play, she’d play.


	3. Chapter 3

“Well Spock, looks like whoever beat you wasn’t good enough to beat me,” teased Jim as he dropped into the seat in front of the final board. It was just him and Spock now, and he was feeling lucky. Spock said nothing as he settled himself into the seat across from Jim, further boosting his confidence. Jim grinned further. “You know what that means, right? I can probably beat you!”

 

Spock raised a doubtful eyebrow. “As we have played before and you have yet to beat me, I find that statistically unlikely.”

 

“We’ll see,” replied Jim, still grinning. “Guess you’re gonna have to give me your other king when I win!”

 

Spock’s look was so bland, it caught Jim a little off guard. The half-Vulcan almost looked as if he believed Jim couldn’t win. Which didn’t make sense, given Jim was the last person standing at this point, along with Spock. Had Spock already beaten the person who’d previously won against him? No, that didn’t make sense. The look wasn’t right for that. It was almost as if Spock knew Jim hadn’t faced whoever previously beat him. But everyone who played chess had played that night. The person who beat Spock had to be there.

 

He opened his mouth to say something, to try to get a reaction out of Spock that might tell him more, but sudden movement beside Spock silenced him. Glancing up, he found his communications officer stepping up beside Spock, her long hair draped over her shoulder as she bent towards her boyfriend.

 

“Uhura!” greeted Jim with a grin, watching as one of her hands fell across the back of Spock’s chair. “Wishing Spock luck before we play?”

 

“Luck is illogical,” stated Spock as he tilted his head back to look at Uhura.

 

Their eyes met for a moment, something silently passing between them before Spock nodded and stood from the table. To Jim’s great surprise, the half-Vulcan leaned forward slightly to press a kiss to Uhura’s temple, his hand dropping to the one gripping the back of the chair before he stepped back. Uhura stepped forward then, grabbing the king present on the board as she slipped into the now unoccupied chair. Silently, she set the original king aside and slipped her other hand from where it had been resting in the pocket of her sweatshirt. Carefully, she unfurled her fingers and placed a different king on the now open spot. A king that glinted in a way that said it wasn’t made of the usual material, though the design was very terran. Just like the rest of the pieces from the same set were, if Jim were to guess.

 

He heard Chekhov swear behind him in Russian before the young lieutenant was leaning forward and rapidly half-whispering to Jim. “Zat is it! Zat is ze Commander’s king!”

 

Uhura didn’t say a word, moving one of her knights and looking up at Jim expectantly with an expression so bland that Jim wasn’t sure how to take it. All he could really do was stare at her as he tried to wrap his mind around the idea that _Nyota Uhura_ had beaten Spock at chess. Based on the look Spock was giving her, the man wasn’t the least bit put off by it, either. He almost looked pleased. Well, as pleased as Spock ever looked. That meant Uhura had to have asked Spock not to mention it. That meant she didn’t want it known that she was a good enough player to have beaten Spock. Which had been the entire point of Jim’s mission.

 

He gulped. She was going to murder him.

 

“Your move,” remarked Uhura quietly, her eyes leveling with his own as she waited patiently for his next move.

 

Jim nodded and moved one of his pawns.

 

She made note of the move and moved her rook. “Checkmate in seven turns.”

 

“Seven?” questioned Spock doubtfully, glancing over the board. Uhura just nodded, shooting him a raised eyebrow. He didn’t remark further.

 

Jim forced himself not to gulp nervously as he moved his own bishop, all the while trying to figure out how he didn’t know Uhura played chess. Maybe she didn’t really and Spock had gone easy on her. But her declaration of checkmate in seven moves and the confident way she moved her pieces made Jim seriously doubted that. She wasn’t even really taking the time to think through the moves, making them in a fraction of the time it took him. It was kind of like playing Chekhov or Spock in that regard.

 

As the game wore on though, he saw exactly how it was she was able to beat Spock. Uhura was ruthless, calm and composed. Every time he got one of her pieces, it felt like she took three of his. Every move he made felt like something she’d tricked him into doing when she made her next move.

 

They didn’t speak as they played until ten minutes later, when Uhura hummed in a disinterested manner. “You were right Spock, it wasn’t seven turns.” Then, she moved her queen and Jim found his king completely surrounded, without Uhura ever having once placed him in check. “It was six. Checkmate.”

 

Jim blinked at the board, as if he weren’t really seeing it. She’d won. Not only that, she’d turned his own strategy against him like a pro. Where the hell had she learned to play like that? It was something he would have expected of Spock or Chekhov.

 

Silently, Uhura offered him her hand. It took him a moment to accept the offered appendage, allowing her to shake his hand once before she released it. His hand remained hovering there as she collected her king from the same spot where she’d placed it at the beginning of the game and stood. Spock’s fingers brushed hers as she passed him, his eyes, filled with admiration, following her as she exited the room.

 

Jim had a moment to debate his next move- let her walk away or go after her and ask her to explain- before he found himself half jumping out of the chair and bolting towards the door. Spock blinked at him as he passed, and he could hear both the Commander and several others behind him as he hurried down the hall.

 

Uhura was only a few feet ahead, her pace brisk and her shoulders stiff as she headed for her quarters. It only took Jim a few seconds to reach her, his hand flying out to snag her arm. “Uhura, wait! Hang on.”

 

“Why Kirk?” asked Uhura in return, hurt and anger lacing her voice as she shot him a glare over her shoulder even as she stopped walking.

 

Behind him, he heard the others slow and all but one pair of footsteps halt. Spock was beside them a second later, shooting Kirk a dirty look. It took him a second to remember he was gripping Uhura’s arm and quickly released her in response to the half Vulcan’s glare. Right, Vulcans were possessive and protective. His previous interest in Uhura had been one on the sticking points between them. Not touching her when she was upset was a thing he needed to remember. Or at least not do in Spock’s presence.

Spock reached for Uhura almost as soon as Kirk released her, his fingers slipping around her wrist in a very non-Vulcan manner Jim had become accustomed to. When Spock was truly upset or relieved, the half Vulcan would embrace her regardless of who else was around. When he sought to comfort her, he would take her wrist or hand in one of his. If that was for Spock’s own comfort or Uhura’s, Jim still wasn’t sure. It could honestly be either.

 

“What do you want, Kirk.” Uhura’s biting demand made him wince.

 

She was probably going to kill him for asking at this point, but he couldn’t help it. He had to know where she’d learned to play like that.

 

“I just want to talk,” assured Jim, holding up both hands in what he hoped would be a placating gesture. “It’s kinda surprising to learn you’re the one who beat Spock.”

 

“Why?” asked Uhura, her lip turning up in a scowl. “Because you didn’t think I would be any good?”

 

“Because I didn’t think you played,” corrected Jim in the most soothing voice he could manage. “I mean, you’ve never indicated you know how, but you just beat me into the ground so fast I didn’t even know what was happening.”

 

“Nyota is an exceptional player,” offered Spock softly, the fingers of his other hand grazing her shoulder lightly. “She has an aptitude for the game.”

 

“Yes!” confirmed Chekhov, his voice excited as he popped up on Jim’s left. Bones appeared on his right and Scotty came around the other side of Chekhov.

 

Uhura looked away from them all, her eyes dropping to Spock’s hand where it rested on her wrist. “I don’t play usually, except with Spock.”

 

“Yeah, we kinda got that part,” confirmed Jim slowly. “But, I don’t get why. You’re good. Really good. And I’m gonna guess you probably like the game, if you’re that good. So why don’t you play?”

 

Uhura was silent for a long moment, her eyes locked somewhere far away. Spock’s brows furrowed, his fingers tightening a little around her wrist in comfort. They released her wrist a second later though as she stepped away from him and turned again towards her quarters. She motioned silently for them to follow, her pace sedate as she started walking. If Jim had to describe it, he’d say she looked like she was walking to her death. Whatever this was couldn’t be that bad, though. What could she honestly tell them that would garner this kind of a reaction?

 

Spock began following her almost immediately, Jim right behind him with Chekhov and Scotty’s footfalls echoing behind him. A third set of rapid steps met his ears, and when he turned to check he found Sulu hurrying to catch up with them. When he glanced forward again, he could see Uhura staring back as well, her lips compressed in a thin line. She didn't stop though, continuing down the hall until they reached the door to her quarters.

 

She keyed it open wordlessly, motioning them to enter behind her. Spock stepped inside without a second though. Jim shot a look at the others before slowly following her inside.

 

The door hissed shut behind them ominously, leaving him, Bones, Chekhov, Sulu, and Scotty trapped with her. He left Spock off the list because Uhura probably wouldn't hurt him. The rest of them were probably dead though.

 

Again, she made a gesture, this time for them to sit as she crossed the room towards her bed. Jim carefully sat on her couch, Scotty dropping down on his left and Sulu on his right. Chekhov remained standing uneasily, shifting back and forth between his feet and Bones settled into an armchair at the end of the coffee table. Spock simply walked to the replicator, keying something in. Sulu leaned around them, raising an eyebrow at Spock before glancing back at the group.

 

“Are you really surprised he’s comfortable in her quarters?” asked Jim quietly in return, giving Sulu a look that said none of this should surprise the helmsman.

 

“I guess not,” muttered Sulu, glancing back at Spock once more. “Guess I just forget. They’re not exactly obvious.”

 

“Unless ‘e’s beamin’ into danger,” muttered Scotty with a faint smirk.

 

“We don’t discuss that, Scotty,” reminded Jim quietly, giving the engineer a pointed look. That exchange, though public, wasn’t discussed. Given the circumstances, that particularly overt display was excusable.

 

Spock returned before anyone could say more with a tray of tea, setting it on the table before picking up a cup. He raised an eyebrow at them, looking almost like he was about to comment, when Uhura’s voice cut through the silence.

 

“My grandfather is the one to taught me to play.” A series of beeps and a hiss of environmental controls undercut her words. Jim turned to where she was kneeling in front of a trunk at the base of her bed.

 

 _A trunk that apparently has environmental controls built in,_ added Jim mentally. That usually meant something important.

 

“He was good,” continued Uhura as she carefully extracted a box from inside the trunk, setting it beside her. “Excellent, really.” She lifted another object from inside, this one wrapped carefully in a protective cloth.

 

Without prompting, Spock set his tea back down and crossed the room. She nodded to the box on the ground beside her and stood with the cloth wrapped object in hand. Spock picked up the box without further prompting, closing the lid of the chest with his free hand as he did so. His eyebrows shot up as he glanced down at the box, though. Still, he didn’t comment as he crossed the room behind Uhura, who carefully sat the cloth-wrapped object on the table.

 

“He taught me how to play when I was five,” explained Uhura, her eyes locked on the cloth covered object as Spock stepped up beside her. He carefully offered her the box, which she took with a thankful nod without glancing at him or it. “I was in his office when I saw his chess set. When I pointed at it and asked him about it, he explained what it was. His eyes grew bright and he was more animated than usual in his speech.” Her lip tilted up sadly at the memory. “I knew he loved the game instantly, so I asked him to teach me how to play.” Her lips compressed at that point and she blinked, apparently broken from her thoughts. Carefully, she set the box down on her side of the cloth-wrapped object, obscuring it from Jim’s view. “I didn’t realize how much his agreement meant.”

 

Silently, she knelt on the other side of the coffee table, the cloth covered object somewhat hiding her from view. Spock frowned almost immediately, moving away for a moment. Still, Uhura continued quietly. “I was too young to understand what I’d gotten myself into by asking my grandfather to teach me chess. I just wanted something I could share with him.”

 

“That isn’t unreasonable,” offered Bones quietly. “He was your granddad.”

 

Uhura nodded once, firmly, her eyes tearing up a little. “And that’s why he agreed to teach me: because I was his granddaughter and I asked.”

 

Spock reappeared at that moment, holding a chair in his hands. She glanced up at him with a faint smile and stood, dropping into the chair once Spock had set it down. He retrieved his tea from the table, but otherwise remained standing beside her silently.

 

“Well, why else would he teach you?” asked Sulu uncertainly, exchanging confused glances with Scotty and Chekhov. Jim just remained silent, allowing her to talk. He’d learned a long time ago that Uhura would only talk when she was ready to, and not before. The benefits of dating her roommate, he supposed. It had sure made her easier to work with.

 

“Everyone else saw his agreement as something else,” replied Uhura quietly, her fingers carefully rising to begin unwrapping the bundle in front of her. “They thought he saw some kind of inherent talent in me.” Her fingers shook slightly as she pulled away the last panel of cloth, revealing a chessboard with the Federation logo transposed over the middle of the central board. “They thought I was another him.”

 

Behind Jim, Chekhov inhaled sharply, as did Spock. Jim glanced at his first officer and his navigator, noting the shock on both their faces- even Spock’s, though the expression was far milder than Chekhov’s. He glanced at Bones, Sulu, and Scotty, but all three appeared completely confused by the apparent significance of the board.

 

Silently, Uhura flipped open the lid of the box Spock had brought over and began carefully extracting pieces. One by one, chess pieces, each featuring Federation symbols in the designs, filled the board. Chekhov was nearly bouncing behind Jim in excitement. Spock looked equally entranced, his fingers reaching out to touch one of the pieces with clear reverence.

 

“I’m not,” spoke up Uhura as she placed the final piece on the board. “I’m no where near as good as he was.” She gulped a little, her fingers reaching up to gently touch one of the rooks. “We started with 2D chess, so I could learn the basic rules of the game, then moved to 3D a few weeks later, after he was confident I had a handle on the game. I used to go to his house almost everyday after school to play.” A small smile tugged at her lips. “When I turned six, nine months after we’d started playing, he led me into his office after school and motioned for me to sit on the other side of this chess board. He said that I was old enough and knew the game well enough to play using his favorite chess set.”

 

“You played with zis set!” exclaimed Chekhov in clear shock. “Zis set!”

 

“Yes,” confirmed Uhura softly, her fingers falling away from the piece, instead selecting and moving one of the white pawns. She didn’t wait for any of the others present to move though, instead moving a knight of the opposite color up a level. “We used to play almost all the time. He loved the game and, once I understood the game, I did, too.” The white bishop crossed the middle board. “When other people started asking me to play, I thought it was for the same reasons my grandfather and I played.”

 

“It was not,” surmised Spock quietly, apparently having recovered. His fingers found her shoulder, a gentle show of support. “They sought to prove themselves against you.”

 

“They thought my grandfather would teach them if they could beat me,” confirmed Uhura softly, tears appearing at the corners of her eyes as what was clearly an old pain resurfaced. “My grandfather’s friend offered to play me for the first time when I was seven. When I was nine, people started talking about tournaments.”

 

“Did you ever play in one?” asked Jim curiously, a sense of dread slowly sliding down his spine. He knew where this was going- he’d been there himself. The expectations of others based on who their parents or, in her case grandfather, were.

 

“I played in a ranking tournament once,” admitted Uhura with a small shrug. “I wasn’t really interested in playing tournaments, but I thought maybe if I let them rank me and they saw I wasn’t particularly good, people would drop the subject.”

 

Jim snorted slightly. “How badly did that backfire?”

 

Uhura’s lips tilted up slightly. “I ranked near the bottom.”

 

One of Spock’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief, his fingers squeezing slightly at her shoulder. “Having played multiple games of chess against you, I can say with certainty that your ranking was improperly assigned.”

 

The soft smile that tugged across her lips was almost teasing as she glanced back at the half-Vulcan. “I didn’t finish. I was near the bottom of the _adult_ rankings. I was ten.”

 

“That would appear a more accurate assessment of your capabilities at that age,” admitted Spock quietly. “I apologize. I should have allowed you to finish.”

 

“It’s alright,” assured Uhura quietly, her brow furrowing a bit. “Though, I would like to know what you based your statement off of.”

 

Spock appeared a little embarrassed for a moment, before reaching out to move the black rook two spaces. “I believe I may have played you when you were younger.”

 

“May have?” asked Bones, his eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. “I thought you Vulcans had an eidetic memory.”

 

“We do,” assured Spock as Uhura moved a white pawn to take one of the black ones. “However, I did not play her face-to-face, but rather through a series of messages.” Uhura’s eyes lit up suddenly, a grin pulling across her face. His eyes softened in response, his fingers sliding over her shoulders. “You recall the games.”

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Uhura softly, one hand rising to twine with his fingers. “After I realized why everyone wanted to play me, I stopped playing anyone except my grandfather. The only exception was one person, who sent my grandfather a message asking if he would play. And my grandfather, who didn’t play anymore except against me and a handful of friends, told him no, but suggested I might be willing to play instead.’

 

“How many games did you two play?” asked Sulu curiously, tilting his head a little.

 

“Many,” supplied Spock quietly, his eyes locked on Uhura in something Jim might describe as the Vulcan equivalent of awe. “I did not cease to play against her until I left for the academy.”

 

Uhura’s gaze finally dropped to the others then, her free hand moving a black pawn and placing her white one in jeopardy. “We played like that for about five years.”

 

“Five years?” repeated Sulu, both of his eyebrows shooting up. “And Spock wasn’t sure he’d played against you?”

 

“We never exchanged names,” explained Spock mildly, a touch embarrassed. “I did not wish for my father’s position to influence Mr. Marho’s willingness to accept or deny my offer of a match when I first suggested one. He never supplied the name of his granddaughter in his response and I suspected she may wish to remain anonymous, so I never asked.”

 

“Marho,” repeated Jim, his brow furrowing. “Why is that name familiar?”

 

Beside him, Chekhov looked ready to start bouncing off the walls. “He was ze first human to win ze Federation Chess Tournament!”

 

“The first human to…” started Bones, his voice trailing off into a scowl. “Dammit, no wonder everyone wanted to play her.”

 

“I’m a good player,” stated Uhura quietly, her voice taking on that uneasy quality once more, like she suspected they might judge her. “I don’t want to play to win, though. I just want to play.” Moving a white rook, she added: “Grandfather taught me that chess can help calm my mind. Playing him always made it easier to think. Playing Spock does, too.” The black knight was next, taking the white rook. “I can feel my thoughts falling into order, like just playing the game reorders my head a little.”

 

“There can be a meditative quality to chess,” confirmed Spock, moving one of the white bishops before Uhura could make her next move. “It is one of the reasons I favor the game.”

 

“Wait, can we go back to the part where Uhura learned to play chess from the Grandmaster who also happened to be the first human to win the Federation tournament?” requested Sulu, his jaw practically on the ground. “He was seriously your grandfather?”

 

“Yes,” confirmed Uhura as she moved another black pawn. “This was the board they gave him for winning, actually.”

 

That made Jim, Bones, and Sulu all jerk back like the board might bite. Scotty, who’d been oddly silent through the discussion, whistled lowly as he examined the board. “I was wonderin’ why there were so many Federation Symbols on the set.”

 

Uhura nodded, taking the black pawn she’d just moved with a white rook. “He left me the board when he died. I think he was hoping I’d start playing again someday.”

 

“Well, you and Spock play, right?” asked Jim as he watched the game against herself unfold. She moved three more times in the span of his sentence. “I mean, it sounds like you do.”

 

“We do,” confirmed Spock, his eyes also locked on the game. “Nyota is an exceptional player.”

 

“Meaning he only wins about half the time,” elaborated Uhura with a gentle, teasing smirk. “Not that he really minds.”

 

“No, I do not,” agreed Spock quietly, his eyes leaving the game to focus on her. “Particularly now that I realize who you are. You lost most of our games before, after all.”

 

“I was twelve when we started playing, Spock,” reminded Uhura in a voice that almost bordered on exasperated. “You can’t expect me to have won every game.”

 

“Nor did I expect you to,” assured Spock. “Your own skills are comparable to mine. I would be unsurprised to discover our rankings to be the same or nearly so.”

 

“Okay, we get it, she’s good,” interrupted Sulu dismissively. “What I still don’t understand is why you don’t play other people here on the ship. No one knew until tonight who your Grandfather was, so why not play?”

 

Uhura shrugged a little, moving one more of her black pieces into place before leaning back with an air of finality. “I guess I was mostly afraid someone would connect the dots. I love to play chess, but I don’t want to play unless it’s for the sake of _playing_ the game. I don’t like to play to win, even if I often do.”

 

Spock’s eyebrows furrowed as he reached for a piece, only to stop halfway to the board. He stared at it closer, as if looking for some magic answer, before allowing his hand to drop back to his side. “Fascinating. Your technique is unique.”

 

“Not really,” dismissed Uhura as her fingers began to arrange the pieces back into their starting position. “The first time my grandfather put me in checkmate without ever putting me in check, I was shocked. I asked him to show me how he did that. He said I’d need to figure it out for myself.”

 

“And you did,” finished Spock, his amazement nearly audible. “That is difficult.”

Uhura just shrugged again.

 

“Uhura, we don’t play to win,” informed Jim calmly. “We play because, well, it’s something we all do. It gives us a chance to bond and-”

 

“Jim, you’ve spent the last week trying to figure out who beat _Spock_ at chess,” reminded Uhura, levelling a glare at him.

 

“Yeah,” confirmed Jim, not bothering to deny that fact. “I did. Because Spock wouldn’t tell us and it didn’t seem right not to include someone who can beat Spock in our games. You only get to be that good if you love the game, and that's basically why we pay, too.”

 

Uhura nodded slightly, her eyes dropping to the table. “Guess I didn't think about it that way.”

 

“Hey, I wouldn't have wanted it known either if I spent a lot of my time dodging glory hogs who felt like they had something to prove,” assured Jim calmly. “But we aren't like that. Your grandfather probably wanted you to keep playing, so come play with us. No one really cares here, so win or lose, it doesn't matter.”

 

Slowly, Uhura nodded, moving one of the white bishops and motioning for him to go. “Play a game or two with me, then decide if you actually want to keep playing me.”

 

Grinning, Jim moved his rook decisively. “Challenge accepted.”

 

The grin disappeared a moment later, however, as Uhura decisively took his newly moved Bishop. Jim couldn’t stop the groan that escaped. Or the laughter that rose from the others, heralding what was going to soon become a bi-weekly tradition aboard the Enterprise for the next five years.


End file.
